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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26313715">I don't wanna lay low, hiding in the shadows</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsandsacrificers/pseuds/angelsandsacrificers'>angelsandsacrificers</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>AUgust [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magicians (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>And It Wasn't Because of Terrible Writing, Canon Divergent, Happy Ending, M/M, Mike McCormick (mentioned) - Freeform, Red String of Fate, Referenced 3x05, Unbeta'd because I'm scared of people, Vignettes, except it's gold for our boys, i reread this and cried, this time</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:02:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,284</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26313715</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsandsacrificers/pseuds/angelsandsacrificers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Eliot mostly thought the string of fate was bullshit. </p><p>or</p><p>Vignettes from Eliot and Quentin's lives together.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>AUgust [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1867174</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I don't wanna lay low, hiding in the shadows</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eliot mostly thought the string of fate was bullshit. </p><p> </p><p>The string led you to whoever held your fate, and it didn’t mean you were going to end up happy. Eliot decided early on that he was going to end up with whoever he damn well pleased, string be damned. There were only a few chances people got to see the string anyway. The most common ways were the first time you met someone (which definitely earned a very awkward get-to-know-you period), your wedding day (where the long speeches on the importance of the string came in handy), or if there was a pivotal or intense moment between two people passerby were able to see it. </p><p>Once he was granted access to magic college he found out that magicians have a better opportunity to see the string. It was a complex third year spell, but if you cast it strong enough you can chase it to your soulmate. </p><p> </p><p>“Many have tried--and failed--,” Sunderland emphasized, “to manipulate the string itself. The string is bound to the universe, and to manipulate the string is to manipulate the universe.”</p><p> </p><p>Eliot had walked out of that lesson satisfied. None of his monthly flavors could get a little <em> too attached </em>. </p><p> </p><p>~~</p><p> </p><p>Quentin Coldwater stumbled through the bushes like a newborn deer. The whole lost cute boy charade had more than Eliot’s smirk intrigued.</p><p> </p><p>~~</p><p> </p><p>He knew by the time he had promised to “lift his spirits so life retains its sparkle for decades,” Quentin was more than a flavor of the month. The high-strung super-nerd started to grow on him. Eliot saw the warning signs behind his eyes when Quentin gave him soft smiles or he found him listening intently to his ramblings, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. </p><p> </p><p>He knew he needed to reign it in. Eliot didn’t <em> do </em>feelings. He hurt people. Plus, there was the ever-growing bond between Quentin and Alice. It would do absolutely no one any good for him to pine after someone in a relationship. Margo would just call him an idiot and tell him to get over himself. “He’s just a cock. Find another one.”</p><p> </p><p>He listened to imaginary Margo. While Quentin was away at Brakebills South he felt like he could breathe for the first time in months, despite the dull ache in his stomach. Mike was a pretty boy, and he understood Eliot. He could see Mike’s adoration for him in the shorter man’s eyes. Loving Mike, or beginning to anyway, had never felt so easy, or beautiful. They felt inseparable. He could make it up to Margo later. </p><p> </p><p>~~</p><p> </p><p>The sunbathing chair was almost made to dramatically fall into next to your best friend. </p><p> </p><p>“So has Sunderland given you the lesson on not manipulating the string yet?”</p><p> </p><p>Quentin snorted as looked over at where Eliot lounged. He was reading Fillory again.</p><p> </p><p>“I just got back from that presentation, so you definitely knew it was happening. You’re trying to start a conversation about strings with me, which I’m guessing will inevitably lead to you asking me about my string experiences.’</p><p> </p><p> “We’ve got our very own Sherlock Holmes on campus I see.” Eliot grinned wide.</p><p> </p><p>Quentin rolled his eyes. “Why do you want to know about my string?”</p><p> </p><p>“Because you’re my other best friend and I’ve always wanted to hear about other people’s string experiences. I’d ask Margo, but you know how she is.”</p><p> </p><p>“Tell me about yours,” Quentin declared. </p><p> </p><p>“Well,” Eliot said, stretching back. “At the end of first year, we go to do a spell about strings. The spell revealed whether or not you’d found your soulmate. If the string was taut, you knew them, but if it was loose and flowing, they were in the wind.”</p><p> </p><p>“And yours?”</p><p> </p><p>Eliot gave a suggestive eyebrow wiggle. “Haven’t found them yet.” He angled his body toward Quentin. “Come on Coldwater, don’t be shy, tell daddy about your red string of fate.”</p><p> </p><p>“You know, not everyone’s is red-”</p><p> </p><p>“Deflecting!”</p><p> </p><p>“Alright,” Quentin relented. “I haven’t seen my string either. Except for one time at a party, an <em> extremely </em> drunk girl declared she saw our string and tried to make out with me. I had to insist that there was no string and that she was just drunk, but then she started <em> bawling </em> . I had to spend the rest of the night comforting her, and then Julia got mad at <em> me </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>They both let out loud, snorting laughter, and Eliot reveled in Quentin’s loud chuckles for a moment. Then Quentin frowned, presumably at the thought of Julia, and instead said, “I didn’t know we would be casting string spells.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry for the spoiler,” Eliot sighed. “I guess we’ll just have to suffer being single together.”</p><p> </p><p>He threw Quentin a suggestive wink, and the loud laughter that bubbled out of him made Eliot feel more content than he had been in a long time.</p><p> </p><p>~~</p><p> </p><p>The long, lithe legs of Eliot Waugh barely carried him behind the bar of the Cottage where sat and brought his knees up to his chest. He choked out sobs and periodically gulped from his flask. </p><p> </p><p>Quentin found him moments later and his brow furrowed instantly.</p><p> </p><p>“El, what’s wrong?”</p><p> </p><p>“I,” Eliot hiccuped, “I killed him.”</p><p> </p><p>Quentin kneeled and shook his head. “Logan’s been dead for years, El. He was hurting you and you didn’t know you had telekinesis. It’s not your fault.”</p><p> </p><p>“No-no,” Eliot sucked in a breath and clawed at Quentin’s chest, bunching his shirt up in his shaking fists. “Mike. He’s dead because of me. I killed him.”</p><p> </p><p>“What?” Quentin’s mouth fell open at the news. “El-”</p><p> </p><p>“He killed Eliza.” More tears threatened to spill over and choked him up so his next words came out as a whisper. “He was going to kill the Dean. It-it just came out of me. I don’t know the spell. I killed him. Quentin, I’m a monster.”</p><p> </p><p>Grabbing Eliot’s biceps, Quentin pulled him into his chest, where Eliot began to sob again. “I loved him.” It was so soft and raw and muffled it was incredible that Quentin heard it. </p><p> </p><p>“I know El, and you’re not a monster. You did what you had to, the Beast could’ve hurt more people-”</p><p> </p><p>Eliot pushed off of him. “Quentin I can’t, I just-just,” Eliot stuttered out as he made his way to the stairs, practically racing up them. He tripped on the stairs, and as he steadied himself on the handrail he turned back to Quentin. </p><p> </p><p>“I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore Q.” </p><p> </p><p>With that declaration, Eliot stalked into his room and curled into himself on his bed to cry it all out. And if, an hour or so later, he heard thumps coming from Alice’s room, he pointedly didn’t think about it. </p><p> </p><p>~~</p><p> </p><p>Having the emotionally high threesome felt like a release from all he was feeling about Quentin, which was promptly replaced by a padlocked box. He could barely stand having Quentin mad at him. It felt like he was suffocating again. He took another slow drag from his cigarette.</p><p> </p><p>~~</p><p> </p><p>“And if you could just give my ass a <em> little </em>squeeze that would be nice.”</p><p> </p><p>There was Quentin’s laugh again. Eliot tried his hardest to memorize every minute detail of the moment. The warm giggling escaping Quentin. How his body gently shook against Eliot’s chest, and the slope of his back and shoulders where he held Quentin tight. Eliot took a deep breath and inhaled him, the sweat, floral-something, and everything else that made up Quentin. He never wanted to let go because that could easily be the last time he saw him. But he couldn’t keep Quentin to himself, because Quentin didn’t want him and his string was with Alice anyway. </p><p> </p><p>One day as he had been passing through the Cottage, they had been smiling and holding a single piece of purple string. He didn’t want to know what they had been talking about. </p><p> </p><p>Quentin also hadn’t let go of the idea that he was going to get Alice back, and Eliot wasn’t going to doubt him. He even wished him luck.</p><p> </p><p>As he wiped the few tears from eyes when Quentin walked away, he wondered where Quentin had gotten the yellow friendship bracelet suddenly on his wrist.</p><p> </p><p>~~</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t even think as he leaped in front of Quentin. It was either he watch him die, or Eliot bled out on the floor. The last thing he saw was a flash of gold as his vision went out.  </p><p> </p><p>It didn’t occur to him until later that he was a golem then, and would’ve been fine regardless. </p><p> </p><p>~~</p><p> </p><p>Until the past year and a half, Eliot did not know he could be so dramatic about one person. But when Quentin hugged him like he’d died, that worry went away and it seemed like he could breathe again. He was exhausted to the bone, what with dealing with the fairy queen and hiding the real reason of the key from Fray, and god Fen and Fray, and running from fucking <em> cannibals </em> in the <em> Neitherlands </em>.</p><p> </p><p>The Cottage’s couch was so familiar, and Eliot felt like he was going to melt into it. After finding the Penny revelation and <em> Penny died and you guys didn’t tell me? </em>he could finally take a goddamn break. He burrowed further into the couch when he heard a snort from above him.</p><p> </p><p>“You know your room’s still here.” Quentin was softly smiling down at him.</p><p> </p><p>“I thought Henry would’ve been eager to be rid of me.”</p><p> </p><p>“I might have written a persuasive essay and begged.”</p><p> </p><p>They shared a chuckle.</p><p> </p><p>“Come lay with me?” Eliot asked. He brightened at the fact that Quentin’s cheeks still dusted rose after all this time. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” he said.</p><p> </p><p>Lazily, Eliot swung his long legs onto the ground and stood up shakily, grabbing Quentin’s hand. He threw him a trademark smirk and he led Quentin to his room where they curled up together to nap the day’s stress away. He found it curious that the curtains were already closed when he reached out to close them with his telekinesis because sunlight was glinting into his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>~~</p><p> </p><p>“And we had a family,” Eliot breathed. </p><p> </p><p>They turned to face each other with reminiscent smiles on their faces. Eliot was about to take another bite of his peach to help process what just happened when Quentin let out a small gasp. Eliot let out the start of an inquiry when a flash of gold caught his eye.</p><p> </p><p>On each of their wrists was a braided gold bracelet, and they were connected by a single gold thread. He sucked in a breath.</p><p> </p><p>“Th-that’s impossible. Your string is with-”</p><p> </p><p>The memory washed over him like a warm, gentle wave. An arch of flowers made by the villagers. Looking into a middle-aged Quentin’s eyes and not wanting to be anywhere else. Quentin’s calloused hand in his and gasping in delight when golden thread tied their hands together and stayed long enough for Teddy to give the proceedings. Him telling Quentin after all the villagers had congratulated them on their string that it was impossible for them to share a string, that they had to be high or something because Eliot had seen Quentin and <em> Alice </em>holding a string that one day in the Cottage. Quentin, beautiful darling Quentin, had given him an exasperated laugh and told him they had been drunkenly making friendship bracelets, and if he was that jealous they could go home right now and do it themselves. </p><p> </p><p>“Me,” he finished. </p><p> </p><p>“El.” Quentin was staring him down with something that looked like hunger and love and it was too much for Eliot and he just couldn’t--</p><p> </p><p>“Eliot, please--”</p><p> </p><p>“Quentin, we just got injected with half a century of emotions. I don’t think we’re thinking clearly--”</p><p> </p><p>“What the fuck can you say isn’t clear here?” Quentin growled out as he held up the wrist with the gold bracelet. Eliot swallowed, remembering he spent 50 years with this man, loving and trusting him with every fiber of his being, and had subsequently told him everything about himself. Quentin <em> knew </em>Eliot, and even if he couldn’t call on all of his Eliot-knowledge right this instant, he knew how he would act. He knew Eliot would try and run from this because Quentin had Alice and Eliot didn’t deserve happiness with Quentin because he would just fuck it all up--</p><p> </p><p>“El, Eliot,” Quentin grabbed at his hands. His stare pierced straight through his eyes and into his soul and made Eliot squirm. “Eliot don’t run from this I- just please,” Quentin took a deep breath, speaking softly in remembrance of the young Floater in the room. “El you were my fate for 50 years. I want that again. Come on, we work.”</p><p> </p><p>It was just- it was just too much. He couldn’t stop seeing Arielle, Teddy with a few tears running down his cheeks, looking happier than ever to see his dads had come to their senses, Quentin taking care of him after he had tripped over the edge of the mosaic and sprained his ankle bad, <em> to our first and last year at this thing- </em></p><p> </p><p>Eliot took a deep breath, closing his eyes. When he opened then again, tears involuntarily spilled over. Quentin, fucking Quentin, brushed them away with his thumbs. Quentin, the ever-patient with him.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s,” he swallowed, “it’s a lot.”</p><p> </p><p>Quentin gave him a watery smile. “Yeah, yeah it is. I love you, Eliot. We don’t have to decide anything right now.”</p><p> </p><p>“I love you too, Q. I just need a--”</p><p> </p><p>“Power nap?” Quentin said as he stood up. “Yeah me too.” He held out a hand. “Join me?”</p><p> </p><p>Laughter bubbled out of Eliot and he accepted the offered hand. “Yeah, of course, Q.”</p><p><br/>
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</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Title from I Just Wanna Shine by Fitz and The Tantrums. If you've been keeping up with my work you'll notice that I keep naming my stories after song lyrics. I've taken to that because every single time I get to "Work Title" in the uploading process my brain goes "no thoughts head empty," and I think what better than to name it after a song that inspired me while writing it. This was also inspired by the AUgust prompt "Soulmates." (duh) Thank you for reading! As always interaction and constructive criticism is appreciated!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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